


Too Far Gone

by deanwritings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester - Freeform, Demon Dean Winchester, F/M, Mild Language, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 12:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3067484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanwritings/pseuds/deanwritings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader</p>
<p>Warnings: Slight swearing, mild violence </p>
<p>Summary: While looking for leads on Dean, you manage to stumble across the one person you were looking for. And it's not the reunion you were expecting.</p>
<p>Words: 1212</p>
<p>Original Imagine: Imagine in an effort to save Dean from being a demon, you accidentally run into him</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Far Gone

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader
> 
> Warnings: Slight swearing, mild violence 
> 
> Summary: While looking for leads on Dean, you manage to stumble across the one person you were looking for. And it's not the reunion you were expecting.
> 
> Words: 1212
> 
> Original Imagine: Imagine in an effort to save Dean from being a demon, you accidentally run into him
> 
> A/N: This is my very first SPN one shot. I see imagines all the time and decided I wanted to try and write along with them. Also, I'm open to continuing this if there's any interest. Thanks for reading!

You rub your tired eyes as you tried to read the words on your laptop.

It had been six months since Dean was killed, and six months since his body disappeared with nothing but a note that read, "Let me go." Nothing else on the scarp paper but those three words written in Dean's messy scrawl. 

You had barely slept since then. Barely done anything but look for any sign of Dean. 

You and Sammy had spilt up a long time ago, hoping that maybe the two of you could cover more ground apart. 

More then anything else, you could barely stand to look at each other. Since Dean died, the two of you were just shells of the people you use to be. Sam had taken up Dean's role of drinking, and you had taken on his insomnia. But more then anything, being around one another was just another painful reminder of what the two of you were missing. 

You had picked up on a few leads the last few days, some that looked very promising. You were hoping that someone could lead you to where Dean's body was, and you were willing to do anything to get whatever information you could. 

You shut your laptop down, knowing that trying to take in any information at this point was useless. In the morning you would head out, and pray that you weren't chasing loose ends.

\-------

Nine hours later, you were parked in front of some bar called the Black Spur. A source of yours--an unhappy demon named Thomas-- had told you, after some violent prompting, that Crowley had been spending some time here, and you were hoping he was your best shot to getting more info on Dean. 

The parking lot was pretty much deserted, as you expected on a Tuesday afternoon. The only cars in the lot belonged to the workers and the frequent flyers who should probably lay off the bottle. 

You walk into the bar and took a seat at a stool closest to the door. The bartender approaches you, and you just order a beer--not really wanting it, but trying to blend in with the small crowd.

As the bartender drops your drink off, and you pull a 20 out of your pocket and stop him.

"I'm looking for someone." You slide the bill closer to him. "British dude, about yay high," you hold your hand above your head. "Dressed in a suit and probably acting like he owns the place."

"Yeah. He and his friend have been in here the last two days." The bartender takes the bill. "Actually, his friend is over by the piano right now." The bartender points across the room, and you follow his direction.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you spot the man at the piano. His eyes are cast down, but the tell-tale jawline and familiar red button down give him away. 

"Dean." You whisper under your breath, in complete shock. He looks--alive. No blood or bruises marring his face. He doesn't look like the man you and Sam carried home, dead, after receiving an angle blade through his chest. He looks exactly as he always has, although his hair seems different.

As if he heard you, his eyes glance up, and his green eyes--the eyes you know so well--connect with yours. 

His face falls for a moment, as if he doesn't know if he's actually seeing you or not. But that look quickly changes as his jaw sets and his eyes glare at you. 

You stand from the stool and make your way over to the piano the same time Dean stands and makes his way over to you. 

Before you can get a word out, Dean's hand wraps around your bicep hard and he pulls you out of the front door. 

In the empty parking lot, Dean releases you with a firm push, causing you to stumble.

"What the hell, Dean? You've been alive this whole time?" You shout. The shock of seeming him in reality is gone. You want to just go over and wrap him in your arms and breath in his smell of leather and soap. But all that is pushed down as the anger seeps through you. You and Sam had been going out of your minds for six months, and the entire time he's just sitting around at a bar, alive!

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean shouts. His whole body is tense, and it pisses you off even more that he has the audacity to be angry at you. 

"What the hell do you think, Dean? I'm looking for you! I've been looking for you for six, god-damn months! And here you-"

Before you can get another word out, Dean's hand is wrap around your thought, and pushing your against the wall of the building. You gasp for air as pain radiates through your back, and your lungs burn as you try to breathe around Dean's grasp.

"You shouldn't have come here." He growls, his face so close to yours, you can smell the whiskey on his breath. As he blinks, he green eyes instantly turn black. You try to suck in a breathe, but you can't.

He's possessed. 

Suddenly it all makes sense.

"I told you and Sammy not to look for me." With a push, he releases his grip on you and you fall to the ground, scraping your knees and coughing for air.

"Why can't you two ever listen?" He spits.

"Who..the..hell..are you?" You wheeze as you try to calm your breathing.

The demon looks down at you and laughs. Really laughs. As if he can hardly believe what he's hearing.

"Oh, sweetheart," He crouches down beside you. "You don't recognize me?" He feigns hurt, even putting his hand across his heart for emphasis. 

You don't answer him. Rather, you just glare.

"Oh, don't give me that look, Y/N." He stands up. You push yourself off the ground and rest against the wall.

"It's me. Dean." He flashes a wide smile and widens his arms, as if he's telling you the most basic information in the world.

"Bullshit." You spit. "Dean's dead." You try to keep the hurt out of your voice, but even after all these months the words still make your voice quiver. 

He shakes his had, still smiling. 

"No," He holds up a finger. "The Dean you know is dead. But baby, it's me. The real me." Your face contorts in confusion as you try to understand his words.

Then hit you like a truck, right in your chest.

"You're a demon." You whisper.

"Bingo!" He points his finger at you. "As it turns out, the mark does much more then we thought it did." He looks down at his covered forearm. 

Before you can say another word, Dean is instantaneously in front of you. So close, you can feel the heat radiating off his body.

"Now I'll tell you one. More. Time." He repeats slowly. His eyes bore into yours, and for the first time in your life, you're terrified of Dean Winchester. 

"Let me go." In a blink, Dean has vanished, and you're left standing alone in the parking lot with nothing but some bruises and a broken heart.


End file.
